Taste in Music
by ForbiddenDreams13
Summary: While Botan loves Kurama, she just can't understand his taste in music.


**Hey readers! I'm dreadfully sorry it's taken me so long to get back to writing. My summer's been pretty busy between my concurrent class and job hunting. We also had a death in my family recently, and had to make a flying trip back to South Dakota to make funeral arrangements. My deepest apologies for being away for so long.**

**Disclaimer: Hello, and welcome aboard the twenty-first century high-speed cruiser, **_**The World Wide Web**_**. If you look to the address bar at the top of your screen, you will see you have currently stopped at a site called fanfiction. A bustling electronic metropolis, this site is for people who write stories based of pre-existing work. If you take a closer look, you will see that none of the writers are profiting off of their stories, or are making a claim to the characters used within. You will also find no lawyers as suing for a copy-right claim is not only pointless, but stupid. Now, if you will please watch your step and keep a tight hold on your luggage as you enter into this nearby story, we will not run into any problems.**

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Botan loved Kurama. The fox demon was a charming and endearing person to be around. Always calm and collected, he never hesitated to be by her side; a constant source of support. Dating him felt like a dream. She loved slipping her small, dainty hand into his larger, warm one; she loved hearing him laugh, loved to watch a light pink swath spread across his cheeks whenever she kissed him in public. Everything about Kurama, Botan loved.

All that said, there was one thing about her boyfriend that, try as she might, she could not wrap her head around.

"What do you mean you don't care for Def Leppard?" Kurama asked.

Botan shrugged, "I don't know, I'm just more of a classic/orchestral person myself. And I never said I didn't care for _them_, it's just that I'm not that big into rock n roll period."

The two of them were sitting in Kurama's room, Kurama lounging in his desk chair, and Botan cross-legged on the floor in front of his bed. After throwing herself at her job and begging Koenma for months, she had finally been granted a week off. And so, as soon as she had left Spirit World, she'd changed into more comfortable clothing, and had headed off for Kurama's house. About half an hour after her arrival, Shiori had gone down to the market to do some last minute grocery shopping. Left alone, the two went upstairs to relax and listen to a bit of music. However, once Kurama turned on the stereo and popped in a cassette tape, Botan had been so perplexed by what came out of the speakers that she just had to say something.

Across the room, Kurama raised an eyebrow, "Seriously?" he questioned, "Forgive me for my disbelief, but how can someone not like rock?"

"The same way a person can dislike country or rap music: it's just not their type of sound," Botan said, "besides, I never pegged you as a person who listens to a hair metal group from the eighties."

Kurama rolled his eyes, "I suppose if I tell you I've got a few Anthrax albums, you'd find that shocking too."

Now it was Botan's turn to raise an eyebrow, "Isn't that a poison?"

"Well yes," Kurama replied, "but it's also a thrash metal band."

Oh no. Thrash metal? It was worse than she thought. In her mind she tried to picture the two correlating. Kurama: kind, strong, very intelligent, slightly feminine looking, and patient. Metal: loud, sometimes dark, normally the music of a disgruntled teen or just an out-there person, and very hard to understand through all the screeching guitars and pounding drums. No matter how hard she tried to fit the two together, it just didn't compute. Confused, she blinked at the red-head seated across from her.

Kurama blinked back, "What? What's wrong with Anthrax?"

Before the ferry girl could inquire as to what other cassettes he had, an interesting thought struck her. She debated voicing it for a moment, then figured why not? She just discovered Kurama had a strange taste in music, what could go wrong?

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Does your mother know you listen to this stuff?"

A chuckle was his response, followed by, "Yeah. She won't let me run the stereo system downstairs. Also gave me a volume limit for use during daylight hours."

"'Volume limit'?" Botan echoed.

"The number one rule of rock Botan: the louder the better."

Botan sighed and shook her head. The workings of his brain were an absolute mystery to her. Botan tried to imagine Kurama blaring metal and head banging to a random song and found she had to bite down hard on her lip to quell a sudden uprising of giggles. He certainly had the hair for it. Smiling, Botan got up, walked over, and gave Kurama a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh Kurama, how you amuse me."

Kurama chuckled and pulled her on to his lap, "We'll assume that's code for 'I love you.'."

Botan smiled, "It is."

Evergreen eyes flashed as the fox smiled back and kissed the bluenette. After a few moments of heated kissing, Kurama pulled back and ran his thumb over Botan's jawbone. His eyes glowed with love and admiration for the beautiful creature sitting in his lap. He gave her a tender smile.

"In all seriousness though, you should at least give Def Leppard a try. Hair metal is different from the other varieties of metal."

Botan giggled, "Okay, just as long as you promise to give peaceful music a chance."

Kurama groaned, "Do I have to? I prefer rocking out to frolicking through a symphony from Haydn."

Botan burst out laughing.

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**I have no idea why, but I can definitely see Kurama being a fan of Def Leppard.**


End file.
